What if Betty and Polly cooper had another sister. A sister nothing like the other two. Y/n cooper a girl unlike the rest in riverdale. Growing up with the pressure to be like your perfect older sister and intelligent twin sister made y/n go crazy...
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"Jury, have you made your decision?" Questioned the judge, looking towards the jury representing the people. I crossed my fingers, my heart beating out of my chest as one member rose, paper in hand.
"Yes your honour. We have found forsythe pendleton jones the second..guilty." The man announced. I felt my heart stop as the guards harshly dragged FP out of his seat, locking his hands in place behind his back. His head hung low as Jughead continued to scream. I quickly stood to my feet, facing the judge.
"Your honour, please reconsider." I shouted, disrupting the court.
"I'm sorry miss but the jury has come to their conclusion. I hear by state that forthys penitentiary Jones the second is sentenced 55 years in prison under the charges of first degree murder." The judge informed, slamming her gavel down.
The sound of wood meeting wood echoed through my brain as I shot awake, drenched in a cold sweat. Thinking it was just my dream, I slowly laid back down, preparing for another restless night until a loud crash came from down stairs. Quickly making my way out of the warmth of my bed I slid my zip-up on and pocked my head out of my bedroom door. I quickly rushed out of my room and made my way beside Betty who was already making her way down the stairs.
"Hey." I whispered, startling her slightly. "Was that you?" She shook her head no, raising her ringer to her lips. Quiet. The two of us slowly and subtly made our way down the creaking stairs only to be met with our mother at the bottom.
"Did you hear that." Betty asked her, her voice just under a whisper being barely audible. Mom quickly rose her hand shushing her. Only it wasn't with her finger. It was with a gun.
"Mom, what are you doing with that?" I asked, not only stunned by the fact that she has one of those but by the fact that she thinks she'll actually shoot someone.
"Just get me behind me. Be ready to call 911." She demanded as she slowly opened the basement door. Betty and I shared a look of discomfort before slowly creeping behind our mother and the safety of the gun.
The sound of papers rustling became clearly as the bottom of the stairs got closer and closer. A large silhouette of a man, rummaging through the drawers for a desk became visible as we reached the cold floors of the basement. Mom quickly Rose the gun in front of her body. She cocked back the gun, letting the noise echo through the wind as the made fell dead still, hands shooting into the air.
"Don't move." She warned. "Turn around."
The man slowly began turning, his clothes and features becoming more visible.
"Don't shoot, Alice."
"Hal!"
"Dad!?"
"Omg." I sighed, face-palming. Most families go on road trips.
